


A Kind Of Demon

by Titlark



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Demons, Gen, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21649948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titlark/pseuds/Titlark
Summary: In our modern age, 20th century, it would be easy to say we have the basic understanding of the workings of our world. Physics and logic safely won over magic and religion. And Heaven and Hell are just outdated ideas to scare the naive. But... maybe it's us who got it all wrong.Demons roam around the world, assigned to tempt people to sin. One of them works in central London.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	A Kind Of Demon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MacandLacy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacandLacy/gifts).



It started as a perfectly normal, calm afternoon. John was sitting in his favourite café, sipping on a cup of tea, and enjoyed the warmth inside when everything out there was crispy cold. Though not even in this part of year central London wasn’t exactly what one’d call winter wonderland, everything wet, cold and grey. The old-fashioned clock on the wall just showed half past ten, the middle of working hours, and the café was nearly empty, exactly how John liked it. Blissfully, he closed his eyes, listening to the muffled radio playing George Harrison’s first solo number one hit My Sweet Lord. John had been sad when Beatles broke up, truly, but that’s just how people are.

The first sign of trouble showed up when a woman walked into the café. And straight to him. John frowned because... he knew her all too well. Perhaps not her face, that must have been new, but underneath, she was of his kind, which never meant anything good.

“You know, it would be polite to ask,” John said dryly when the newcomer joined him at his table. 

“I like to see you too,” the woman nodded with a sleazy smile. “What’s your name now?”

“John Richard Deacon.”

“Lovely. You made yourself a nice body too.” She grinned. “Delicious.”

John glared at her. “Did you want something besides a chat, Amdusias? If not, I have things to do.”

He wanted to get up, but Amdusias reached forward and grabbed his wrist. “That’s kind of the point, sweetheart,” she said. “We’d very like to hear about the things you do, because, forgive me to say, from our point of view it doesn’t look like much.”

“What do you mean?”

Harrison’s song in the background ended only to be followed by something from Jackson Five John haven’t heard yet. 

Amdusias’ smile got even wider. “You know how few demons gets the privilege to rise from hell. You got it - but for a reason. So, are there any results of your work?”

“I am working,” John snapped, “every day.”

The woman just glanced around the empty café. “Yes, I can see that.”

“Look, it’s not that simple,” John defended himself and his cheeks went a bit red, “people have their own mind, they won’t let me just... seduce them into anything.”

“You’re a twat,” Amdusias said. “I’m just here to warn you... John. You either start doing your job properly, or... it won’t be up to me to decide what to do with you, little brother.”

With this warning, the demon got up and suddenly, John was alone, only him, his cup of tea, and a weather forecast.

I give you a twat, John thought angrily as he walked down the street. Soft snowflakes fell from the grey skies here and there, only to land on the wet pavement and disappear without a trace. I’m just as good in my job as anyone, he decided, though to be completely honest, maybe he was slacking a bit. Doesn’t matter. Tonight, John Richard Deacon will be back in the game.

It was around eleven in the night, when he put on his favourite outfit, checked himself in the mirror and satisfied headed to the nearest night club in East London. If there’s any place more suitable for tempting people to sin, it must be that one.

Definitely lots to choose from, John smiled eagerly and tapped his foot to the rhythm of music. The club was packed with people in various stages of drunkenness wildly dancing all over the place, body to body in the whirlwind of colourful outfits. The air smelled of sweat, smoke, and a mixture of perfumes. John glanced around and his eyes stopped on a man sitting alone at the bar, holding his half-drank beer.

I can make him drink way more than that, John thought and praised himself for the idea, because sure, alcoholism and overindulgence – that might count as a double sin even, with a bit of luck.

“Hello,” John smiled brightly and took a seat next to his victim. “I’m John.” Even a demon can be polite, can he not?

The man gave him a glance, and seemed he liked what he saw, because the previously sombre face lit up.

“Hi, John,” he turned himself a bit towards the new companion. “Can I help you?”

“Ehm...,” John paused, now unsure how to proceed, “... do you want another drink?”

Stupid question, John mentally chastised himself, ready to be chased away, but to his surprise, his victim smiled. “Why not, actually,” he said cheerily, “my date dumped me and you, well... I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but... you’re cute.”

John blushed at the compliment. “Oh, well.... thank you.”

Looking back, this might have not been the best approach, John decided few hours later, being bent over a sofa in the man’s flat and thoroughly fucked from behind. But on the flip side, getting laid is far from the worst thing that can happen to a demon.

Very well, this was genuinely fun, but John knew he needed to get back to work and quickly. In the morning, he slipped out of the flat, leaving a thank you note, glass of water and some Panadol on the bedside table.

He considered getting himself some breakfast at one of his favourite places but decided against it – he really had no desire to tempt his demonic supervisor to another pleasant chat. Instead, he headed to the nearest grocery shop to buy at least a small Hershey bar. 

There was an unkempt middle-aged man staring at the shelf with cigarettes, nervously glancing around from time to time. He could steal it, John realized, and his heart fluttered in excitement, I could make him steal it! Just slow, easy, steady approach...

“Hello,” John started, tapped on the man’s shoulder, and put on his brightest smile when his new victim turned around. “I’m John.”

The man frowned. “Yes?”

“I just... I don’t think you should buy these,” John lowered his voice and winked. “Don’t buy them.”

“My wife is just like you,” the man huffed, and John’s eyes widened.

“Your wife’s a demon too?” he gasped.

“Yeah, man, all the time,” to John’s endless disappointment the man put the box back onto the shelf and sighed, “one of those health freaks. Go to hell.”

And with that, he left the shop, leaving his tempter mildly confused.

John spent the rest of the day by the river, throwing pieces of bread to ducks. It started snowing again, but he paid it no mind and the fluffy flakes slowly settled on his shoulders.   
Maybe it would be for the best, if I return down there, John thought glumly and threw a particularly large piece of crust. To spend my days in the heat and darkness, torturing souls who already sinned and not to... well, whatever this was. He wished it could be different. If people sin out of their own free will, then sure, they deserve to be punished, but to tempt them into it... it felt unfair, John couldn’t help himself, but it did. He didn’t understand. But.... he didn’t have to understand, just to follow orders, and perhaps, one day, he’d become one of the great demons, the kind who can do whatever they please, wherever they please, and do not have to answer to anyone.

What would I do... John dreamed while tearing another stale chunk of bread... get a little house, somewhere nice... have a garden, make myself a cup of tea every morning, maybe even a cheese on toast? And there’s be music, John decided. He quite liked the kind of it people tend to make these days. 

In time, he ran out of bread, and the ducks stared at him most offended. John sighed. Even his dreams don’t look particularly demonic. 

Suddenly something murmured around his ears and John perked up. The cold winter wind brought to him a string of words – a summoning spell! Someone nearby wants a service of a demon!  
John disappeared.

“Oh, come on, Fred, you can’t be serious!” Brian said and walked over their small cramped living room, carefully avoiding Roger’s empty beer bottles. The sofa creaked when he sat down.

“You just don’t have the faith, darling,” Freddie replied calmly and shut his book, a thick leather-bound volume entitled Basic Demonology. “And we need a great deal of it, should we find ourselves a decent bassist.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “So, your solution is to summon a demon? To ask him for a bassist?”

“Desperate times, desperate measures.” Freddie said and lightly jumped back on his feet, “and Roggie, be so dear, and close that window, I’m freezing.”

The handsome blond, smoking his cigarette leaned out to the street, frowned, but obliged. John used the situation and crawled closer, invisible, watching the trio through the glass. They had to be young, not much older than the form he took these days, and probably not exactly rich. The flat looked shabby and all the furniture run-down or cheap.

“... the last time I borrowed you my library card,” the one called Brian just said.

“You’re just too negative,” Freddie smiled and ruffled Brian’s dark hair. The seemed so unnaturally straight – maybe straightened? John didn’t like it. “We’re going to make it, one day, if we find someone good. We’re gonna be the greatest rock band of all time. And if we need a demon to do that, then, my dear, that’s who we ask.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

In the meantime, Roger took a swig from one of the bottles that weren’t entirely empty yet and shrugged. “As long as he doesn’t suck as bad as Jeremy – what kind of a bloody name is that, Jeremy? – I don’t care even if he turns out to be a bloody unicorn. Make some new flyers for the audition, Fred, I can hang them around school tomorrow.”

A bassist? John blinked. That wasn’t a thing people usually wanted from him, but after all, this bunch looked young and modern, so perhaps the demand will get more common with time. For a rock band?

The greatest rock band of all time...

John knew a thing or two about the showbusiness, what kind of environment that was. Sometimes he wondered if his superiors had something to do with it. No one who ever entered that industry remained a pure soul or at least sin-free. And these three... maybe a little push is all they need?  
The demon smiled. This was his chance.

Two weeks later, a nervous nineteen-year-old in questionable jumper, clutching his bass and amp, entered the lives of Freddie Mercury, Brian May and Roger Taylor.

“Hello,” he gave a shy smile, “I’m... I’m John.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it to the end! For now I post this as one-chapter closed story, as I honestly don't know where this is going. So if you have some ideas, suggestions, or requests how this story should proceed or what you'd like to read about when it comes to demon John, please, let me know in the comments, I'll be extremely grateful.


End file.
